In Search of Mastery (2)
I threw myself into my studies with fervor.
I devoured books on the history of the martial world, strategies and tactics of warfare, geography, organizational management, espionage, and intelligence. I even read about arts, literature, philosophy, and medicine, subjects seemingly unrelated to military affairs. I went as far as to delve into architecture and climate.
Seeing me so absorbed in books, my parents were taken aback once more.
They never expected this side of me.
“We have a scholar in the making in our family,” my mother joked, to which my father responded with a hearty laugh.
Regardless, they were pleased with my belated dedication to learning. After all, a sword wielded by an ignorant hand is quicker to meet its end.
A month passed since I began my studies.
Already, one wall was stacked high with the books I had read. What started as preparation for entering the Justice Hall had turned into a pure enjoyment of reading.
“I’ve brought all the books you listed.”
Gwangdu entered the room, arms laden with books. He gaped at the pile of finished books from last time and exclaimed in disbelief.
“You’ve read all these already? You’re kidding, right? You just skimmed through them, didn’t you?”
“Exactly.”
“Your honesty tells me you really did read them all.”
“Of course.”
“How do you read so fast? Do you understand everything?”
“Some things, yes. Others, no. You have to let go of the obsession to understand everything perfectly as you read.”
“Wow!”
His exclamation was so loud that I looked up at him.
“That really resonates with me. Like when I’m practicing a technique, I should let go of the need to execute it perfectly…”
“If you let go, you’ll die. You must execute it perfectly.”
“Yes, sir.”
His quick change in demeanor made me chuckle, and Gwangdu joined in.
“I hear things are going well with Dosun.”
“How do you know so much about the outside world when you’re always cooped up reading?”
“There’s a world inside books too.”
“Sorry, but the real world is out there! Dosun is out there too.”
“Hahaha.”
Yes, he was right. I was holed up here to prepare myself to step into that world.
One surprising realization from my studies was how many martial arts masters had written books on subjects unrelated to martial arts.
For instance, the legendary spear master of the North Sea, Du Yangshou, wrote about calligraphy and painting, and the Western Poison Whip, Zheng Chong, left behind travelogues. Especially Zheng Chong, who didn’t seem like the type to read, let alone write.
“Did he really write this?”
I was often taken aback. It was a fresh experience to read books written by people I knew.
I began to wonder if I had been living like a frog in a well.
Handling all sorts of affairs in the alliance made me feel like I knew everything about the martial world. Meeting countless people made me feel like I understood them well.
But through my studies, I realized I had lived a one-sided life and knew little about the martial world. I didn’t even truly know the people I interacted with.
I didn’t regret that life, though. It was because I lived that way that the martial world remained peaceful. Otherwise, would they have had time to write books?
By the time Gwangdu had brought books five more times, the trees outside my window began to bloom. March had arrived.
Though I had only been engrossed in reading for two months, I gained a significant insight.
I realized that my studies were related to martial arts.
While they didn’t directly influence my martial skills, the studies changed me.
Reading transformed me, and as I changed, so did my martial arts. The change was subtle but meaningful.
It was a moment of clarity, confirming what I had vaguely sensed since being reborn as Byeok Lidan.
To reach new heights in martial arts, I needed to live a new life.
I was now certain that for my martial arts to evolve, I had to change.
Before leaving Shandong for the exam, I met with Song Hwarin one last time.
“You’re heading back to Wuhan tomorrow?”
“I need to go for a while.”
“I’ll miss you.”
Her tone was calm, but she was now more open with her emotions.
“I won’t be gone long.”
If I failed the Justice Hall entrance exam, I could return immediately.
“I hear you’ve been deeply into your studies lately?”
“Word travels fast, huh?”
“There’s no one in Shandong who doesn’t know. You know how small it feels despite its size.”
The same was true for the entire martial world. The Central Plains were vast, yet sometimes they moved as one.
“People must think I’m crazy.”
“Not at all. Your reputation in Shandong has completely changed. If they were to pick the most promising young talent here, it’d be you.”
It was thanks to the exploits of the Little Sword Brigade. No one my age was making such significant moves. Positive rumors were a good thing, especially since I planned to dominate Shandong.
“Is your trip to Wuhan related to your studies?”
I nodded at her question. I didn’t want to lie, but I couldn’t tell her I was going to win over Galsaryang.
“Keep an eye on the Little Sword Brigade for me.”
“Me?”
“We built that brigade together, didn’t we?”
Her hesitation wasn’t about the justification. I guessed what she was worried about.
“With your skills, you can lead them. Have confidence.”
“Do you really think so?”
“I’m sure. Trust me.”
Her Jinwha Swordsmanship was unmatched by the martial skills of the Little Sword Brigade. Only Gwangdu’s Southern Sea Seven Techniques could compare.
“Practicing martial arts alone in a training hall quickly hits a limit. You need to interact with others to improve faster and break through barriers.”
She nodded seriously, perhaps resonating with my words. Jinwha Swordsmanship was a solitary art, so my advice likely struck a chord.
“Alright. I’ll check in on them.”
“Thank you. I’ll be off then.”
“Take care.”
Leaving the Song family estate, I headed straight for Wuhan.
My heart raced. I was on my way to find the most crucial person for my future endeavors.
Could I win over Galsaryang’s heart as Byeok Lidan, not as Cheonhajin?
Wuhan, home to the main branch of the Martial Alliance, was bustling with people there to take the entrance exam. The streets were filled with applicants from all over the Central Plains.
With so many people gathered, all sorts of characters appeared.
A middle-aged man whispered conspiratorially in my ear.
“Pay ten nyang, and I’ll share the secret to passing.”
I’d lost count of how many of these pesky types had approached me.
“Not interested.”
“Save a little and lose a lot!”
From those who cursed me for refusing to those boasting they’d helped over twenty warriors pass, the streets were full of charlatans.
While other organizations held their exams in training grounds, the Justice Hall’s exam was conducted indoors.
Entering the exam hall, I concealed most of my internal energy, leaving only half a level visible. Hiding one’s energy and internal power was a highly advanced skill, but it was something I excelled at.
Of course, a master stronger than me could detect my hidden energy, but until then, no one would know.
Sitting in my designated seat, waiting for the examiner, I felt a strange mix of emotions.
Who would have thought I’d be taking the Martial Alliance entrance exam?
Looking around, everyone seemed tense, most of them dressed like scholars. They all looked so smart that I worried about my chances.
The first exam was a written test on basic knowledge. The questions were mostly as expected, and I completed it without difficulty.
The results came out in the afternoon, and thankfully, I passed. More than two-thirds of the applicants failed.
They looked so smart, but they were all just empty shells.
Being recognized for something other than martial arts felt surprisingly good.
“Those who passed, return tomorrow for the second exam!”
The next day, I went for the second exam.
This time, the questions were more challenging. Unlike the first exam, which required finding answers, this one required expressing personal opinions.
Fortunately, the questions were in my area of expertise: strategies and tactics related to warfare.
For example, they presented a specific terrain, with given numbers for our troops and the enemy’s. How should we form our defenses? When and how should we attack?
A spy infiltrated the enemy and learned critical secrets. He was captured by the enemy. Rescuing him would cost several lives. Should we risk the sacrifice to save him, or abandon him?
These were the kinds of questions.
When it came to combat, I was more of an expert than those who set or graded the questions. I combined my existing knowledge with what I’d learned from recent readings to craft my answers.
While others struggled, I found the exam manageable.
After submitting my answers, the examiner returned about two hours later.
He announced the successful candidates. Thankfully, my name was called, though I noticed him scrutinizing me as he did.
Was there something wrong with my answers?
Regardless, most candidates failed this round.
The final interview was the next day.
As I entered the room, my heart surged with emotion. The interviewer waiting inside was Galsaryang.
Why was he here?
It wasn’t likely that many military officials were conducting interviews. This meant he was in charge of this process. It seemed he was holding his ground within the Justice Hall.
Meeting him right from the start might actually be a good thing.
I calmly walked over and took a seat in front of him.
Suddenly, I recalled the time I sat before the examiner in that room. The battles ahead would be ten times more challenging than that one.
My relationship with Galsaryang starts now. This moment is more crucial than even after passing the exam. I need to catch his eye and get close to him.
But I can’t stand out too much. Galsaryang dislikes subordinates who draw too much attention. I need to naturally come into his view.
“Byuk Lidan, heir of the Byuk clan from Shandong.”
“Yes, that’s correct.”
“The Byuk clan is a traditional martial family from Shandong. Why did you apply to Jeonguigak?”
“I’ve been interested in the military affairs of the Murim Alliance since I was young.”
His gaze lingered on me for a moment before shifting to the documents in front of him.
“You scored the highest in the second exam.”
“Oh, did I? I wasn’t aware.”
No wonder the examiner had been watching me closely.
Galsaryang began reading through my exam answers.
“I guess I was lucky.”
Contrary to my expectation that he would just glance at it, Galsaryang’s eyes remained fixed on the paper.
Perhaps he sensed the essence of Cheonhajin in my answers.
When he looked up at me again, his demeanor had changed. His previously formal attitude now showed a deeper interest.
“How are your martial arts skills?”
“While they might not be necessary at Jeonguigak, I’m confident in my abilities.”
“Can you show me?”
“Yes.”
I stood up confidently.
I grabbed a piece of scrap paper, tossed it into the air, and sliced it into four pieces with a swift motion. The pieces landed neatly on the blade of my sword.
Then, with another flick, I sent the paper flying again, cutting it into numerous fragments that fluttered down like snow.
“Impressive!” Galsaryang exclaimed. Though he didn’t practice martial arts himself, he had spent a lifetime observing various martial artists. He could gauge someone’s skill just by watching them handle a sword.
I demonstrated the peak of my Baekwol Sword Technique, a level that would convince him or anyone else of my prowess.
This place was full of intelligent people. Even Galsaryang was exceptionally sharp.
His request to see my martial arts made me think he might be looking for a subordinate with some martial prowess.
If not? If it backfired?
I could only hope it wouldn’t.
After a few more questions, the interview concluded.
“The results will be announced in two days.”
“Thank you for the opportunity.”
I bowed politely and stepped outside.
As I left, I took a moment to look around. This place, where the exams and interviews were held, was unfamiliar to me, being part of the outer grounds of the Alliance. I had always been in the inner grounds, and even when I moved around, it was through paths reserved for the leader.
Flowers swayed gently in the spring breeze as I walked toward the main gate.
Two days later, I returned to hear the results.
An examiner stepped forward to announce the successful candidates. Galsaryang was nowhere to be seen.
“We will now announce the final successful candidates.”
The twenty or so candidates who had passed the second round all tensed up.
I was nervous too. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt this anxious.
“There are five successful candidates.”
While other organizations recruited dozens, Jeonguigak, due to its nature, only selected five this time.
The examiner called out the names of the successful candidates. Cheers and gasps filled the air.
Fortunately, my name was called last.
”…Byuk Lidan! These are the five. Congratulations.”
The examiner invited the five of us to step forward, smiling warmly.
“From today, you are proud members of Jeonguigak.”
From a leader to a new recruit, I had returned to the Murim Alliance.